"That's right," said Battle, as Mosgorovsky leapt up and came round to Bundle. "Get a chair for her. It's been a bit of a shock, I can see." Bundle sank down on a chair. She felt limp and faint with surprise. Battle went on talking in a quiet, comfortable way wholly characteristic of him. "You didn't expect to see me, Lady Eileen. No, and no more did some of the others sitting round this table. Mr. Mosgorovsky's been my lieutenant in a manner of speaking. He's been in the know all along. But most of the others have taken their orders blindly from him." Still Bundle said no word. She was--a most unusual state of affairs for her--simply incapable of speech. Battle nodded at her comprehendingly, seeming to understand the state of her feelings. "You'll have to get rid of one or two preconceived ideas of yours, I'm afraid, Lady Eileen. About this society, for instance--I know it's common enough in books--a secret organization of criminals with a mysterious super-criminal at the head of it whom no one ever sees. That sort of thing may exist in real life, but I can only say that I've never come across anything of the sort, and I've had a good deal of experience one way or another. "But there's a lot of romance in the world, Lady Eileen. People, especially young people, like reading about such things, and they like still better really _doing_ them. I'm going to introduce you now to a very creditable band of amateurs that has done remarkably fine work for my Department, work that nobody else could have done. If they've chosen rather melodramatic trappings, well, why shouldn't they? They've been willing to face real danger--danger of the very worst kind--and they've done it for these reasons: love of danger for its own sake--which to my mind is a very healthy sign in these Safety First days--and an honest wish to serve their country. "And now, Lady Eileen, I'm going to introduce you. First of all, there's Mr. Mosgorovsky, whom you already know in a manner of speaking. As you're aware, he runs the club and he runs a host of other things too. He's our most valuable Secret Anti-Bolshevist Agent in England. No. 5 is Count Andras of the Hungarian Embassy, a very near and dear friend of the late Mr. Gerald Wade. No. 4 is Mr. Hayward Phelps, an American journalist, whose British sympathies are very keen and whose aptitude for scenting 'news' is remarkable. No. 3--" He stopped, smiling, and Bundle stared dumfounded into the sheepish, grinning face of Bill Eversleigh. "No. 2," went on Battle in a graver voice, "can only show an empty place. It is the place belonging to Mr. Ronald Devereux, a very gallant young gentleman who died for his country if any man ever did. No. 1--well, No. 1 was Mr. Gerald Wade, another very gallant gentleman who died in the same way. His place was taken--not without some grave misgivings on my part--by a lady--a lady who has proved her fitness to have it and who has been a great help to us."